Gentleman Thieves I Have Known: Jii's Memoirs
by Ysabet
Summary: Jii, the faithful servant to Kaitou Kid and his family, has something to say..... A weird little fic of mine about the history of the Phantom Thieves and their acquaintances. **FIRST CHAPTER UP! GOOD GODS, IT'S A SHORT CHAPTER!! AMAZING!!**


**Gentleman Thieves I Have Known**

**(Memoirs of a Thief's Gentleman)**

By Ysabet

_Part One:  Beginnings, Choices, Philosophy_

Upon consideration, I wonder now if writing this is altogether a bad idea.

Tcha; I've barely begun and already I am assailed by doubts.  Ah well, in the words of my first master, I suppose that I should 'go on with the show, and don't let the audience see you twitching.'  In any case, if these memoirs are ever seen by the public eye, my master and I will either most certainly be incarcerated or incapable of caring about whether or not our lives have been revealed; after all, the dead do not embarrass easily, do they?  

Quite so.  I'll continue, then.

My *first* master, of course, would be Kuroba Kaijiro, the current Phantom Thief's grandfather.  I am not a young man, you see, and my beginnings go back quite a number of years; but I have _always_ served the Kuroba family.  Always have, always will; if one chooses a field of endeavor, it behooves one to stick to one's cards and continue on.

I must say, though…  When I saw his son Toichii die so terribly at the hands of those blackguards nearly a decade ago, I truly thought that the line of the Kuroba Kaitous had finally, tragically come to an end.  The family bloodline had a chance to survive through his son, but the lad was untrained save in stage magic and the scant lessons his father had imparted regarding simple disguises, lock-picking and that sort of thing.  There were no other heirs, no cousins or nephews trained in the Phantom Thief's Art—just Kaito, less than ten years old and stricken by grief.  I resigned myself to the end of an era and allowed myself to grieve as well.

His mother and I chose that I should part ways with the family, at least for a few years; even now, I'm not quite certain as to why she wished this.  Perhaps she wanted to see if young Kaito would truly fall into his father's mold without the encouragement of my humble self?  And I *would* have encouraged it; it would be both my duty and my pleasure to see another Phantom Thief in the making, to watch Kaito become the Kaitou…..

Why, you ask?  Ah; time now for a little personal philosophy regarding the Art.

To begin with, one must understand that the Art of the Phantom Thief is not _*primarily* concerned with material gain; however, such a consideration should not be overlooked (in other words, it's fine to be creative but don't forget about the bills).  Any thief with the proper expertise and creativity can steal money, gems, etc., etc., but only a true Kaitou can collect their prize with the proper artistry—they must be flamboyant, they must be visible, and above all they must impart a sense of mystery and astonishment to those involved.  Lastly, of course, they must not become so caught up in their work that they forget to carry away the goods—something that has happened more than once in the past._

The duty of a Phantom Thief is to baffle, to astound and to bring about emotions ranging from horror to delight and everywhere in between.  Why, one might ask?  Why shouldn't the thief concerned simply use their considerable talents to avoid perception, slip in, take the target and get out without being noticed at all?  Why all the flamboyancy and display?  Why take the risk?

Tell me:  Why haven't the world's artists turned _en masse_ to technical drawing?  It certainly pays better than, say, watercolors or sculpture…..

That, I would suppose, is why we call a Phantom Thief's work _*Art.*  Because they __could do it another way, a simpler way; Kaitous are extremely good at what they do—they have to be, or the tradition would have died out long ago.  To dance on the tightrope's thinness before the public eye one must be willing to risk all—and _lose_ all, should it come to that._

So why do it?  Why not simply go on stage as a performer, if the performance is so important?

Now I suppose we must deal with the _psychology_ of the Art—and I warn you, this is a rather dimly-lit area at best.  But every Phantom Thief I have ever known (and there *have* been others I've met outside of the Kuroba family—indeed, I certainly did MY share during my youth) has been what I have heard called in the modern parlance an "adrenaline junkie."  That is, they thrive on danger, on the knife's point—they crave the deep, pure, visceral thrill that comes with _***getting away with things.***_

I cannot emphasize this enough—every Kaitou that has ever lived has delighted in thwarting the common law, flaunting their defiance of authority and all the Thou Shalts and Thou Shalt Nots (as Master Toishii used to say).  They are the foxes stealing the chickens, staying just out of reach of the hounds when they could outrun them so easily.  It's so *much* more fun to thumb one's figurative nose than it would be to simply slip away in peace, true?

Looking back, I don't really believe they do this out of malice; there have been Kaitous with nasty streaks, certainly, but for the most part they tend towards the mischievous rather than the malicious.  They simply can't leave well enough alone.  I remember, from when I was an apprentice so many years ago the lovely bloom of excitement and shocked triumph that came with having one's prize in hand at last, after so much effort…  Really, there's a purity to it.  For a normal thief, perhaps, the focus is on gain; but for a Phantom Thief, the pivot-point of an operation is on the performance.  A Kaitou could steal the Hope Diamond, the Crown Jewels of Great Britain and the gold sarcophagus of Tutankhamen and still feel utterly downcast and defeated if the world did not gasp in awe.

(It occurs to me, however, that such items would be a bit difficult to sell on the open market; tcha.  The state of things today is truly deplorable when an honest thief can't depend on his craft to buy the groceries, is it not?  That's the sort of thing that a Gentleman Thief's Gentleman like myself has to think of, alas.)

Of course, this sort of temperament _does_ tend to make them somewhat erratic in personality….. but what artist was ever that stable?  And it's quite a challenge for one such as myself, serving the Kaitous-- trust me on this one.  

But then… where would the world be without challenges?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

As I said at the beginning of this memoir, I am not at all certain that writing this is a good thing.  However, I've begun, and I've always found putting down my thoughts onto paper to be very soothing; so I'll make the best of it.  As time passes and I add more detail, perhaps I, too, will come to a greater understanding of the world of the Phantom Thief—I'll certainly admit that there are aspects to it that baffle me even today.  And who knows?  One day this work may help some descendent of Kuroba Kaito to understand him or herself as well.  

Young Master Kaito, now…..  He's quite a challenge, you know, the greatest one I've run across so far in a long life of challenges.  His methods and workmanship tend towards the erratic and the artful in the extreme for one so young—indeed, if there was _EVER_ a soul born to the craft….. which, of course, makes it even more of a pity than ever that his main motive in becoming a Kaitou is revenge upon his father's killers.  Let me put it plainly here on this page:  I fully and utterly support Master Kaito's efforts in every way.  Master Toichii's death was an abomination; it should never have happened, and his wife should never have had to raise her son alone.  While revenge is seldom a valid reason for one's choices, I fear that this time it must be so.

Of course, things do change over time; where the young master once crafted each effort with only the drive of vengeance in his heart, I believe that he has come to love the Art for itself—there is too much joy there, too much delight in his victories afterwards for anything otherwise.  And that, in the end, is for the best….. or so I think his father would say.

In the days of myth and legend a thief reportedly stole fire from the gods; I would like to think that as he ran from their thunderbolts and shouts he was _laughing… and that somewhere behind him as the greater gods fumed and swore, the lesser ones were cheering him on._

For that, dear reader, is the heritage of the Kaitou.

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To Be Continued…..

_Ysabet's__ Notes:  Hiya!  This is the brainchild of a rather erratic conversation between myself, Icka M. Chif and Becky Tailweaver very early in the a.m. one morning, when the plot bunnies were running (or bouncing) rampant and all the Idea Particles were smacking us in the noggins with great glee.  No clue why…..  That sort of thing just happens now and then.  I dunno if this will turn out good or not—but it sounded like so much fun that I just HAD to try it.  Short chapters I swear I'm gonna try to keep them under 2,000 words) and posted at odd intervals; this one will be my relief-fanfic from when the others are being stubborn!  Why not?  It's FUN to write as a slightly crochety old thief with more than his share of Bon Vivant and suaveness (or, as it was put last night during another chat:  "Bond, Jii Bond.")  Hope y'all like it!_

_Next chapter:  Who knows?  Definitely more history; I want to play with Jii's background a lot.  Bear in mind, I'm basing this on the tiny snippits of info from the manga and whatever I make up—it's NOT canon, it's speculation!  More about being a Gentleman's Gentleman too…..  I think I'm gonna enjoy this.  Bye!-- Ysabet_


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